The storm continued, but inside our little cabin, the world felt peaceful.
As sleep started to drag me down, I thought about Wexla, and I wondered what she’d think of Carla.
My mate would like her. She’d appreciate Carla’s determination, her kindness toward a grumpy orc who’d forgotten how to be anything but competent. She’d probably tease me about my obvious attraction to a human who challenged me at every turn.
The thought followed me into sleep, where I didn’t dream of grief and loss, but of auburn hair catching lamplight and brown eyes that saw past my defenses to the male I was slowly remembering how to be.
Chapter 11
Carla
Iwoke to warmth and the steady rhythm of breathing that wasn’t my own.
Sometime during the night, we’d migrated to the center of the bed, drawn together like magnets seeking their opposite pole. Becken’s arm lay across my waist, holding me close. My head rested against his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. The scent of his clean, masculine skin with hints of pine filled my senses.
I should move. Extract myself before he woke up and found us tangled together like lovers instead of colleagues stranded by a storm. But it felt too good to lay with him. Safe in a way I’d never experienced. I felt protected. Cherished.
His heartbeat drummed beneath my ear, and he shifted, murmuring something that must be Orcish. His arm tightened around me, an unconscious gesture that made my heart flutter. I’d never felt this completely at home in another person’s arms.
The realization should’ve sent me scrambling for distance. Instead, I found myself memorizing the way his breathing stirred my hair, the solid strength of his chest beneath my cheek, and the gentle weight of his arm around me.
Becken stirred again, his breathing pattern shifting as consciousness returned. I felt the exact moment he became aware of our position, his body tensing. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand moved in a slow caress along my side, a gesture so tender it made my throat close off.
“Carla.” My name came out rough with sleep, barely more than a whisper.
I lifted my head to look at him, acutely aware of how close our faces were. His dark eyes held mine, his pupils dilated in the dim light filtering through the frost-covered windows. The air between us crackled with tension.
“Hi,” I breathed, suddenly aware of how my legs had tangled with his during the night, how my body was pressed against his from chest to thigh.
“Hi.” His voice carried a huskiness that sent heat spiraling through me.
We stared at each other, neither moving to break the intimate contact. His gaze dropped to my mouth, lingered there for a heartbeat that felt like eternity, then returned to my eyes. The question in his expression was unmistakable.
I answered by closing the distance between us.
The kiss started gentle, questioning, his lips soft against mine. But the moment I responded, parting my lips to deepen the contact, we ignited. His hand rose up to cup my nape, and he tilted my head for better access. I melted against him with a soft sound of surrender.
He kissed me like he’d been thinking about it for days, with an intensity that made my spine tingle. His mouth moved on mine with skill and passion, drawing responses from me I didn’t know I was capable of. When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened for him eagerly, tasting the unique flavor that was purely Becken.
The kiss deepened, became urgent. I spread my hands across the solid wall of his chest, sucking in the feel of his warm skin. He groaned against my mouth, the sound vibrating through our bodies, then rolled me onto my back in one smooth motion.
His weight settled over me, careful not to crush but definitely claiming. The evidence of his arousal pressed against my leg, and his pupils had blown wide with desire. My own body responded by sending liquid heat through me, centering it in my core where I ached for so much more than steamy kisses. My nerve endings sang with awareness.
He lifted his head, staring down at me. “Carla.” This time, my name sounded like a prayer and a promise combined.
“Yes,” I whispered, not even sure what I was agreeing to, only knowing I wanted more of this, more of him.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands roaming over my body. When his mouth left mine to trail along my jaw, I arched beneath him, desperate for more contact. His lips found the sensitive spot beneath my ear, and I gasped, clutching his shoulders.
He slid his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, his warm fingers stroking across bare skin, making me shiver. He paused, his dark gaze searching mine for permission. I gave it with a nod, my breath snagging as he pushed the fabric up, baring my belly to the cool morning air.
Becken leaned down, trailing his lips after his hand as he exposed inch after inch of skin. He pressed slow kisses along my belly, each one searing through me. The contrast between the heat of his mouth and the chill of the room sent goosebumps racing across my skin.
When he reached my ribs, he paused, his eyes flicking up to mine again. He released a small, almost teasing smile before shifting to his elbow and gently guiding my shirt over my head. I lifted my arms, my heart pounding, and let him strip it away.I lay bare before him except for my underpants, but under his gaze, I didn’t feel exposed. I felt worshipped.
He bent again, his mouth trailing along the tender skin beneath my breast, his fingertips following the dip below my ribs. His breath was warm, his touch maddeningly gentle. I slid my fingers into his hair, holding on as he kissed the curve of my breast, his stubble rasping deliciously against my skin.
“So pretty,” he said, his voice thick with wonder.
